How Our Stories Fit Into THE Story

Category: Inspiration (Page 3 of 7)

Worship in the storm

Sometimes our days run one into the other, and before we know it, winter has turned to spring. Our precious children another year older, and we say the time-honored cliché, “Oh, where have the days gone?”

Other moments are forever imprinted on our memories. And we stop. We reflect. We remember. We reminisce our wedding day, the birth of our children, special trips with family. We are nostalgic for first kisses, falling in love, our most embarrassing moments, our first childhood friend.

As we enter into the month of February, my mind goes to that reflection place, to two Februarys ago.

It’s those difficult memories of life’s challenges that define me,

that make my faith strong, that deepen my well of trust in my Father.

And when you get to the other side of something tumultuous, the mundane tasks become something to savor, the sky sunnier, ice cream tastes better, and little moments that before were not even noteworthy, become precious gems in our day to day life.

I don’t always want to think back on the difficult seasons, but for February, it feels significant to remember. To remind myself of the challenge… and the God given victory that followed.

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Here’s my story. But first I need to back up a few months before that February. Now at this time I am 18 years as a wife. I am a mom, lover of Jesus, and my blessed husband pastors a church. Needless to say, I am all in for God. Or at least I thought I was. Until God encountered my life and turned me upside down…. or rather, right side up.

It was one of the biggest moments of my life so far, right up there with birthing my precious girls and declaring vows on my wedding day. God fanned the flame of my love and desire for Him that nothing else could satisfy. There just became not enough hours in the day to spend in His presence. Things that seemed like priorities before, dimmed in comparison to worship, prayer and reading the word. I felt like one of those “odd duck” Christians that I couldn’t really relate to before. I did not ask for this. I did not pray for it. I said a simple yes to one convicting thought that was actually quite immature on my part. I said “yes.”

And He changed my life.

And only a few short months later everything fell apart. My husband’s on/off battle with panic disorder came to a raging head. What would normally be a few-hour panic attack, turned into days and then weeks.

Even nights did not bring relief from the fear and panic that I could so clearly see on his face. We prayed hourly. We read scripture. We called the doctor. We stood our ground from the onslaught of the enemy. And no relief came. Only survival. Time stood still. Leaving the house became a chore. Working and ministry ceased.

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God knew I needed to be walking in an intimacy with Him like never before in order to bear up under the pressure of it all. That I needed to know His voice in a deep way to lead me through each day as crisis after crisis came barreling at us.

I needed to be anchored in Him to allow me to be the anchor for my husband and my girls.

My husband has always been my rock and the spiritual leader of our home. Those roles became completely reversed, and we entered into a paradigm I had not known before. God knew what I would need in order to carry me through this journey.

There are countless moments of redemption from that season. For the longest time I kept a running list of all the ways God took care of us. The people He put in our path at just the right moment, the endless support of family, friends, and loved ones.

The sweetest redemption of all was how loud God’s voice became in my heart and mind. I did not waiver on what He was asking me to do, simply because I had never heard Him like that before.

Although I barely left my husband’s side those 40 some-odd days, I did attend church. It was my refuge, my place of solace. I’m not sure if God whispered to me first or I told him, but I committed to worshiping Him at the altar until my husband had breakthrough in his fear and anxiety. Every week, for six weeks, completely uncomfortable, I would get out of my seat, kneel at the altar in front of hundreds of people, with tears streaming down my face, and tell Jesus I loved Him, that I would keep loving Him, even though day after day the answer was still no, or wait, or not yet.

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At one point I told my husband that we were going to have a worship party when it was all over. And then I heard God say, “Worship me now.” Although I had no clue how that was going to work, I invited some powerful prayer warriors over, not knowing if my husband would even be able to make an appearance.

And that was the day God gave us victory, and Lance started to improve. That was the weekend he was able to return to church to preach. That was the beginning of the end of the 40 some-odd days of shear terror for my husband.

It’s not easy to worship God in the storm. I would like to think I would have, regardless of what God had done in my heart only a few months before. There is a part of me though that doubts, a big part.

God knows what we need. He knows what is necessary to prepare us for every valley and mountaintop.

He knows the next chapter. He knows the refining process to put you right in position for your calling. He knows what we need to obtain before that next journey and every “y” in the road.  He knows because He is the potter and we are the clay. He knows!!

Whatever you are facing today, I encourage you to worship in the storm and watch the raging, storming seas turn into dry land!

Suzi

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Suzi has been partnering with her husband, Pastor Lance Hahn in building Bridgeway Christian Church in Rocklin, CA since 1998.  She is a woman of wisdom with a passion for prayer and encouraging the Body of Christ. She is the mother of two girls, ages 15 and 11 and enjoys speaking about practical help for real life. Recent doors have opened for ministry through writing devotionals, blogs and encouragements online. She is devoted to spending her life pursuing God and lifting up those around her.

 

 

Failure- I applaud you

As writer, speaker, and creator of UpcycledJane.com, Bekah adores connecting with women, students, and parents. She has published over 20 articles on parenting, inspiration, and faith, contributed for Orange County Register, and guest writes for Yellow Conference.   Bekah is passionate about encouraging women to find their identity and freedom in Jesus, to live intentionally, and to celebrate their created selves .When she’s not playing with her two sons or hubby of eleven years, you’ll find her at the beach, reading, baking, or rearranging furniture. Bekah shares with a relaxed, storytelling style, as if you were sitting on her couch and catching up as old friends.  


“Gosh, every life-changing lesson I learned when things were going perfect,” said NO ONE EVER.

Creative businesses are oftentimes birthed from personal pain.

My own father’s death was an invitation to live in awareness of God speaking through simple, tangible, everyday experiences.

We learn most from our mistakes, from our failures, from pain and suffering and black bruises.

Yet there is something in our human nature that wants us to avoid failure at any cost.

Just hurry up and fix it.
Get happy.
Move on. Get over it.
Try harder.

I’m afraid we have it backwards, friends.

My biggest failures have actually paved way to more authenticity, more freedom, more of an eternal perspective, and less of an emphasis on what I do. I can feel my shoulders release as I write.

Failure, I’ve come to applaud you, and I trust there is a nuggety lesson waiting to be learned when we next meet.

Would you agree? Have your biggest lessons been birthed from easy street or mistakes?

All weekend I’ve been saturated in the truth that beauty from hardship is beauty appreciated.

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Maybe it was in the swing my hubby built- hours of sawing, measuring, and white-washing. The four of us donned floppy gloves and varnished the heck out of it, only to discover the white paint had dried gross yellow, which made our poor swing look like our dog had lifted his leg on every square inch. And that made us sad. Clear varnish = Big. YELLOW. Mistake.

Sure we failed. But only temporarily.

The next day while Bry was at a meeting, the boys and I painted one coat of WHITE, very NON-YELLOW chalk paint, then two. We cranked jazz music and brushed our hearts out.  Painting is like gardening- it offers much time to get lost in the sky, in one’s thoughts, in the peace at the gradual process.

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I thought about so-called failings in my past, the times I hadn’t been able to pull it together because of massive transitions. I thought about when we’d lived at my folks with a toddler and a newborn as we experienced every major life transition AT THE SAME TIME.
Because that’s how we roll.
As if we’d planned it.

You know what would be fun? If we lumped all these crazy changes together. Yea! Let’s short sale a home and look for a place to live. And while we’re at it, let’s process a job change, and shifting communities and churches and friends. And what the heck- let’s throw TWO YOUNG CHILDREN in the mix to make it really fun. And maybe I’ll shower once in a while. And did I mention we were living at my parent’s home through all of this? (bless their hearts).

Cue situational depression and a small-ish dose of IN.SAN.I.TY!

It was not how our life was supposed to be. It was an epic fail, or so we’d questioned.

Time offers perspective that one can’t typically see in a fog of suffering.

Hindsight sheds grace rays on the sweet reality that those hard months- and yes, they were beyond hard- were pivotal to the memories our oldest has of living with his grandparents. When Tanner lost his grandpa at 4 years old, those months spent with them are what stand out in his mind. Even now.

Failure isn’t always what it seems. Suffering and pain and mistakes are pinpricks in the bigger scheme of yellow varnished slats.

When we stand back, we see with brave clarity that those marks of perceived shortcomings, were, in fact, opportunities to be human.

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To be imperfect.
To extend compassion and grace for others that are hitting their heads against the wall wondering when gray clouds will lift.

There’s a beautiful truth in journeying much, failing often, and appreciating the realness today brings.

And today I say with whole-hearted confidence, When I’ve failed, when I’ve suffered, when I’ve experienced pain and shortcomings and mistakes, is when I’ve GROWN the most.

And with failure, an awareness of beauty like never before.

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-Bekah Pogue, Upcycled Jane.  

Be on the lookout for Bekah’s FIRST BOOK to be released at the end of the year!!!   You can also subscribe to her blog at www.upcycledjane.com.    

 

choose REST

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January is a peculiar month because it combines the fresh energy of new beginnings with a deep, underlying weariness from holiday busyness.  The fresh energy always tempts me to pick up twelve new projects or make multiple resolutions.

Can you relate?

Have you ever wondered why our New Year’s resolutions fizzle out so quickly?

I think there’s a direct connection to the fact that Western culture has forgotten how to – REST.

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Tim Keller wrote an excellent article for Q titled: Wisdom and Sabbath Rest.  In it he discusses our innate need for soul-level (Sabbath) rest.  And that simply turning ‘off’ work or turning ‘on’ leisure will not quench it.

Practicing rest takes intentionality and discipline.  Keller outlines the following internal disciplines:

  • Rest is an act of liberation [I’m not defined by my work/ministry/commitments]
  • Rest is an act of trust [I’m not the one who keeps the world running]

And pairs them with external practices:

  • Build more Sabbath time into your schedule
  • Balance the ways in which you partake in Sabbath time, and make a point to include contemplation [the process of reminding yourself of the story of who you are]
  • Be accountable for Sabbath time

Friends, I’ve read this article and listened to the related podcast (Work and Rest) a dozen times.  Honestly, I’ll probably review it a dozen more. It’s taking that long for my project-driven mind to soak up the truth of what my soul really needs – REST.

I feel an urgency to saturate these concepts in January because, as I look forward to 2016, I want to engage with the year in a new way.

Too often my primary focus is goals and activities.  I think this is probably true for most of us.

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This year I want to use the tools Keller outlined to anchor my heart with the story of who I am.

Will you join me?

It seems fitting to begin by reminding ourselves of the story of who we are. Here are a few of my favorite identity statements:

    • We are free. (Redeemed by Christ. No longer bound to the slavery of self-absorption.)
    • We are enough. (We don’t have to prove ourselves worthy – ever!)
    • We are royalty. (Sons and daughters of the Most High King. Sisters and brothers to one another.)
    • We are chosen. (He chose us before the dawn of time. Our lives have purpose and meaning.)
Please take a moment to comment with your own. Let’s hold each other accountable as we engage with 2016 in a new way.
Laura

the final countdown

DSC04729The FINAL COUNTDOWN…ba, da, da, da….ba da, duh, duh, duh. Insert glam guitars, pyrotechnics, fireworks. (Geico commercial has us all envisioning the scene).  48 hours before the much awaited (dreaded?) Christmas morning.  Anticipation is strong and concurrently so is our stress. School is out. Kids are home. Expectations are high. To-do lists are long. Events are plenty. Like an Olympic athlete we have trained for this event…We are ready to multi-task like we are three people in one body.

Let’s do this- dig deep friends. Wrap that present. Visit the Dollar Store (again! and greet your favorite checker who now knows you by name).  Plan those holiday meals.  Grab your concealer and dab up those bags under the eyes, put on some bright red lipstick and boom! Smile bright for those family pics.  Sing it with me…”It’s the most wonderful time of the year.”

As a child, I remember mama always falling asleep while the last presents were being opened at night- that perplexed me. Now that I’m a parent I totally get it. It’s exhausting.

Ya’ll-  I write to you from a white cozy couch in Tennessee (hence the “ya’lls”). To be real-  it’s three days before Christmas and I am totally in chill mode. Don’t be jealous- I was on that hamster wheel a week ago when we were packing for a 2 week vacation and celebrating Christmas with our clan 12 days early.  I feel you. The struggle is real.

Today, though I write from the comfort of my in-law (love)’s home. My kids are all happily on screens around me (don’t judge me- they’re quiet). The window blinds are wide open wide to welcome in the rays of sunshine after the morning rain. Large pines surround the brick home and every window presents a view that could be a painting in an art gallery.

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I think of you.  I wonder where you’re finding yourself on this final countdown.  I’m guessing you don’t even have time to read this. But for a moment join me on this couch with a piping cup of hot tea.

Here’s what I’ve learned this Christmas. It’s about WONDER: “wonders of His love.” Slowing our quickened pace. Looking deep into the eyes. Really listening. Noticing the beauty. God’s fingerprints- they’re all around us. In the handmade gift your littles made you at school. In the real hug you get from the family member you’ve had tension with. In the song that for some reason hits you different this year. In the tears you cry behind closed doors. In the smell of pine or cookies fresh from the oven.  In the crisp cold air of a winter morning. It’s HIS gifts to us. His little ways of saying “I am here. I see you. You are loved.”

Do you see Him? Do you you hear Him?

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When our boys were tiny- we added a baby girl to the mix. I remember thinking our house was basically a nursery. I’d carry one baby on my hip then rush around the house picking up this or that with my toes, cooking, cleaning, playing matchbox cars, and always keeping one hand available to tickle, scold, or redirect my boys. With all the activity around, the baby girl on my hip knew it took a lot for me to actually stop and fully pay attention to her. She likes FULL attention. So…even as a mere babe she’d grab my face with her two  chubby hands and physically turn  my head to look her in the eyes. It was the only way for her to know I was FULLY WITH her.  She still does it even at age five.

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I wanna grow in this – be less distracted. God knows it takes a lot for me to slow and fully be present.  This season, I’ve sensed Him grabbing my cheeks, turning my head, lifting my chin to look up into His eyes.  I’m seeing His fingerprints in creation, in the people around me.  It’s the WONDERS OF HIS LOVE. They’re there. Do we see them?

“The whole earth is filled with awe at your wonder; where morning dawns, where evening fades, you call forth songs of joy.” Psalm 65:8

I don’t know where you find yourself in this FINAL COUNTDOWN. I think of you all- spinning the many plates like you do. From Tennessee I send you a big strong hug. Let my little girl’s chubby hands remind you to take moments to slow, allow yourself to feel a sense of WONDER when God reminds you to stop and take things FULLY in. In the little things remember that you are loved.

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It’s in the final countdown of these sacred days I will pray for you and for me that amidst the CRAY-CRAY God will  “show us the wonders of His great love” (Psalm 17:7)

The Mother of All Holidays!

Coree Keenan is our dear friend with an amazing laugh and smile that will warm the coldest of days. An accomplished photographer, she captures the beautiful and candid moments of life best through her camera lens. She has begun a new journey with God – asking Him to reveal Himself to her through signs. Look how it played out right before her eyes.

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In my family the mother of all holidays is celebrated on December 15th…ten days before the rest of you all celebrate that little thing you call Christmas! To us, a day bigger than Christmas is my little brother’s birthday.  This year Todd turns 31.  Todd loves birthdays in a major way. We still love Jesus and adore the birth of Christ, but December 15 comes first and we celebrate it BIG.

 

Todd has a super fancy extra little chromosome that gives him Down Syndrome. It is the best part of my little brother. He is full of love and joy and excitement and zest for life! Celebrating his birth is pure joy. We were not there for his birth…so we over celebrate for each birthday. His excitement for this (and most things) is contagious.  You can’t have a regular day with Todd. There is no regular with him. The kid runs hot. There is an extra throttle in his engine.

 

When he turned 16, we took Todd to drive go carts. There was some confusion, he thought that they were bumper cars…and there is a good reason why he will never drive a real car. There was an “incident”…but everyone survived and my siblings and I just giggle about it.

 

When he turned 21 we played bingo. Not the same thing as gambling…but we had just as much fun.

All good birthdays are celebrated with chocolate cake.  It is a Todd rule. There are lots of Todd rules. All dinners begin at 6pm…not a minute earlier or later. Similarly, all desserts are eaten at 7pm. All greetings contain hugs. All birthday cards contain “a dollar for your new wallet” whether your wallet is new or not.

 

This year I had decided that we would throw back to the days of watching a show on Nickelodeon where people ended up with pies in their faces. A new board game came out this year called “Pie Face” …just in time for Christmas. But that was part of the problem. They were selling out!  Black Friday shoppers were faster than me.  I could not find this game ANY WHERE! Target has sold out of them in Sacramento and was not selling them online.  Amazon sellers were showing that they do not have them available for shipping before Christmas…and I needed mine TEN days BEFORE that silly little holiday…for the mother of all holidays. No luck at Kmart, Walmart nor CVS. I was out of ideas.

 

C’mon God!  Where are you in this?

 

I began to go to plan B in my mind. We would throw whipped cream tin pan pies in each others’ faces. We would skip the little roulette part of the game and the anticipation of when the little pie would flip up in your face…but that was the fun part. I couldn’t just give up the hunt. That is not like me at all. I never give up. But I had already driven to a store 45 minutes away and come back from Target empty-handed, even though the internet said that they had one in the store. I had given up. I wasn’t going to find the game. That was ok. I could loosen up. I could adjust the plan. We could still have a fun party.

 

But then, I got a text from a friend saying that one had been found in a Walgreens…hmmm. I started calling Walgreens stores and I found ONE store that had ONE. The last one and they would hold it for me until I got there.  BIG SMILE ON MY FACE!  I  practically skipped into Walgreens to pick up the board game that would save Todd’s birthday. The kid full of joy and life, who has started to tell me,”I pie in your face.”  That kid. He is a trash talker. We have taught him well.

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Thank you God! Way to show up for the details.  Thank you LORD for putting me exactly here in exactly this excited state ready to celebrate Todd with my whole heart and all of my joy and all things good.

 

And the lady in line in front of me was talking quietly to the cashier and she checked out and then walked three steps towards the door and the alarm buzzed. Something in her bag set off the alarm. She had just given the money to the cashier so it was fine…the cashier said to her, “The Plan B is sensitive. It has the security chip in it.”

 

And the breath was sucked out of me. Time stood still.

 

Plan B’s come in all kinds of ways. I thought about how thirty-one years ago Todd’s birth mother’s plan b was adoption. I am so grateful for that. Grateful that my mother was ready for him. And she had prepared her family for him.  And we were excited for him.

 

And that is where I see God in this story.

 

I see God in my mother’s love for her family. We have always joked that Todd is her favorite child. He is. He is my favorite, too. Every one of my siblings would say the same. He is our favorite. Not everyone *gets* Todd. Fewer people *got* it thirty-one years ago.  So today I say a little prayer over all “plan B’s.” They may not feel like your favorite now…but give them some time … and a whole lot of prayer. And watch God work.

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-Coree

 

 

My King

On this cold December morning, my daughter’s singing transported me from a mountain of laundry to a holy place…

O Holy Night, the stars are brightly shining

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As my ears attuned themselves to her sweet song my soul whispered:

Can you feel it? Can you sense the coming of the King?

  • A King who chose to step down from his position of privilege.
  • A King who chose a poor family and made them his own.
  • A King who spent his early years as a refugee.
  • A King who required no pomp or circumstance.
  • A King who met people in the very CENTER of their weariness.

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This is the King I look to in December. Not some helpless babe in a manger. No! My King is powerful. He performs the miraculous.

A thrill of hope the weary world rejoices

My King has this amazing ability to hold us in our weariness, our rage against injustice, grief over lost years, and fear about the future. He designed our emotions; he can help us learn how to read them.

AND

His ability doesn’t stop there.

For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn

Not only can my King meet us in the center of our weariness and complicated emotions…

HE CAN REDEEM OUR STORY.

My King can take the dry, dusty, weary parts of our lives and coat them in a fresh blanket of snow.

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Snow that holds the promise of new life when kissed by the warmth of spring.

This, my friends, is the King we sing songs about.

Laura

When the Weary Rejoice

 

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It’s no surprise that this week, the week that I am supposed to be writing about rejoicing, is a week where I’m feeling like doing everything but that! Isn’t that how it always works?! This is the season of being merry with all it’s twinkling lights, hot cocoa, and jingling bells.  I’m a mom of little kids and sometimes fall into the trap of thinking that Christmas  is up to me.  That I must do more, be more, BUY more in order for it to be merry. This does not lend itself to rejoicing, unless we’re talking about finding the toys on my kid’s wishlists in the clearance section!! That may incite some rejoicing. But we’re not talking about that. 🙂

I know I SHOULD be rejoicing {expressing joy}, but I have a list out the door of things I SHOULD be doing. I’m guessing you might have the same type of list.

Then there’s our world around us, full of tragic news and pain. Brokenness all around us.  What else are we to do but continue on, full speed ahead trying to just get through this season. Trying to outrun fear and stress or just numbing ourselves against it.  Friends, if we do, we’ll miss it. We’ll miss something crucial. We’ll miss the opportunity to rejoice  and the healing effect it will have on our battered selves. We need to rejoice, or more importantly we need the thrill of hope that evokes rejoicing.

“A thrill of Hope, the weary world rejoices.”

As the song suggests, we are all weary in one way or another. Weary from work, from a season of pain, or from a season of loneliness. Riddled with chronic stress, chronic need, or never ending battles. We are depleted from our lists of to-do’s, from our grief, or from our trials. This life is just plain hard and it’s natural to become weary as we wait for something better.

But that’s the beauty of Christmas! That’s why we rejoice…because  Someone did come to heal us, to give us hope. And He came for you. Hope came for you.

His name is Jesus.  The bible calls Him Emmanuel, meaning God with us. Christmas marks the rescue for us all, the moment when God came near and began the rescue operation. That’s the thrill. That God Almighty, in His sovereign, indescribable glory came near to humanity.  And He is still wanting to be near to you. He sees you.

He loves you. And all you have to do is turn, quiet your heart, and look at Him.

That’s when you get the thrill of all-encompassing hope.

So how do we get from having hope to rejoicing?

To rejoice is to express intensive joy, to give joy , to feel joy and to act on it. This verb sounds simple enough, it really isn’t easy to act out. We cannot and should not fake joy.

Our joy is the effect of something else. Someone else.  Emmanuel. Jesus. We express that joy, rejoice, because it is all we can do when our hearts open to receive His hope, His love…Him. Our weariness dissolves when we catch a glimpse of Him. And we rejoice. It may be in a loud song, it may be with a smile to the sky, or it may be through laughter overflowing you. But it is an expression of joy that we cannot contain.

As I sat here typing this, I was thinking of times when I’ve had that thrill of hope.  I then looked out my window to see this.

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And I saw Him. Not literally of course, but I’ve known Him long enough to recognize when He’s revealing Himself to me. I felt His smile in the sheer beauty He provided. Saw Him drawing near to me.  Knew He was caring for me even right now as I attempt to write these meager words about Him. His love for us is extravagant, powerful, and everything we need. It thrills like nothing else.

And my weary heart rejoices.

Come, O Come Emmanuel

-Kallie

Linger

“Gratitude consists of being more aware of what you have than what you don’t have.”

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Tomorrow, for one day, time will slow. Families will gather around tables to share a meal together.  For a moment maybe… minds will reflect on how blessed we are and maybe we’ll even awkwardly verbalize our thanks. Then we’ll get back to navigating complicated relationships, leaving dinner early for Black Friday, and dreaming of our Christmas lists – hoping they’ll bring us happiness.

Maybe it would pay to linger in the moment of thanks…

Thousands of years ago Jesus walked into the land of the enemy. There were ten very sick men with leprosy who saw Him coming. Their lives had become characterized with loneliness and isolation. Jesus broke all the rules by touching them and ultimately brought them full healing. He instructed them to go back to show themselves to the priest and re-enter community. And off they ran to the next chapter of their lives.

But one…one out of ten… returned to Jesus to say “thank you”. This man was fully aware of who he was before and how that moment with Jesus had totally changed his life. He chose to linger and revel in the moment of wholehearted gratitude.

Life is hard. There’s plenty to worry about and tons of things we could dream about having. But let’s be real: there is beauty in recognizing what we HAVE been given rather than what we are lacking.

Before we rush on to our next chapters..let’s be ones who intentionally pause and reflect.

May our souls exhale in glorious thanks. Join us and linger.

Happy Thanks-giving!

Revealing The Story team

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Just…. breathe

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The illusion that everyone has a long list of thankfuls just waiting to be shared disappeared a long time ago.

If your heart squeezes when the calendar marches deeper into November I want you to hear loud and clear that you are not alone.

And, you’re not a scrooge just because you might admit that the holidays are tough. I believe there are countless people in your shoes, and, more importantly, I believe that God understands your conflicted emotion. He recognizes (and cares!) about the fact that you:

  • Miss your loved one(s). He wants to catch your tears and meet you in the loneliness and confusion of experiencing holidays without them.
  • Worry about your financial state and wonder how in the world you’ll be able to pay for Christmas.
  • Lose sleep picturing the first holiday your kids will spend somewhere else.
  • Feel the weight of expectations from others and pressure from yourself. You dread letting people down (again).  [Dear one, to Him you will always be ENOUGH]
  • Want to feel closer to your extended family or in-laws but can’t seem to see through the maze of complications to make it happen in time for Thanksgiving.
  • Don’t like shopping or crowds. You want to be in a good mood, but the busyness and craziness have a way of bringing you down.
  • Anticipate the stress of a ‘too full’ calendar or sadness over a ‘too empty’ calendar.

Please don’t dismiss these emotions. Beloved, our Good Dad wants to meet you in the center of them.

Allow honesty in your relationship with yourself and with God – He can handle it!

Oh how I wish we could hold hand through November and December to the fresh breeze of new beginnings that is January.

Since I can’t hold your hand, I want to share a few things that have been helpful for people. As you read this list please remember:

1) Everyone one is different – consider only things that might work for YOU.

2) Try one, try several, or try something else. But, by all means, do not add more pressure to yourself!!

Just pick one that feels doable for today.

Okay, here we go…

  • Grief requires more time and energy than feels natural or permissible. Practice permission.
  • Whose voice do you have on repeat? Is it truth? Is it kind? If not, consider ways to offset it.
  • Thankfulness is a discipline. Train your heart to focus on even the smallest, honest point of gratitude. Then, watch the miraculous as that tiny point grows into something significant.
  • Look at your calendar and say: “You have no power over me.” I’m serious. Repeat it until you believe it. And then use your developing voice to make choices about your calendar.
  • You do not have to do things the same way you did them last year. It is OK to make adjustments.
  • Are your media choices (social or otherwise) negatively impacting your heart? If so, consider modifications for the season?
  • If there’s a 99% chance that you’ll leave a particular gathering feeling tense and irritable, then consider what you can plan around it to decompress.
  • How do you best connect with God? Are you making time for that?

If you’re not sure how to begin to change, or if the change you know you need to make feels like too much please do yourself a favor –

close your eyes for a moment and just breathe

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It’s truly a God-gift how something as simple as a deep breath can calm our nerves.

Breathe, my friend. Just…. breathe.

 

Laura

a moment of wonder

Last Monday morning was not pretty in our house.

For some reason 3 out of 5 of us woke up on the wrong side of the bed and grumpiness factor was high as we prepared for school. Throwing lunches together, making sure clothes were on, teeth  brushed, water bottles filled we frantically rushed through the morning. There were grumblings and arguments and my heart was racing by the time I collapsed into the front seat and pulled my seatbelt over my shoulder.

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I pulled out of the driveway I glanced at the clock and realized we actually were running a few minutes earlier than usual (I guess the clock I was going by in my bathroom had been wrong- note to self: change the battery asap). Anyhow I turned on some music loudly to try and replace the tension-filled air with noise. I was not looking forward to this day and all it held. I had packed too many “to-dos” in my calendar and was already feeling the stress.

I drove up the street and then as I turned the corner headed towards school my eyes locked on a gorgeous sight. The lush green grass of the middle school field was decorated with a light dusting of mist. The clouds were thick against the ground in a magical kind of way and there the sun broke through on the horizon. It’s rays reached out piercing through the fog and illuminating hope of a new day. And for a minute it took my breath away. My kids saw it too…”Wow.” And then my sensitive spirited middle boy spoke up “mom- look what God made for us.”

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I was blown away by the beauty. Knowing we had a few extra minutes before school started I pulled the car over into the parking lot. I turned off the noise of the radio and the kids and I sat and took it in. The warmth of the sun rays against the grass. The piercing of the light through the mist. The beauty of water droplets hanging on the edge of blades of grass. Wow.

It was a reminder that there is a God bigger than us.

That every morning- his mercies are new.

That occasionally we are floundering around and He stops us in our tracks to LOOK UP.

For a moment, the messy past doesn’t matter – we are reminded who we are in light of who God is.

He can be seen in the artwork HE crafts around us each day.

“The heavens declare the glory of God.

The skies proclaim the works of his hands.”

Psalm 19:1

Sometimes it pays to just pull over and stop. To WONDER in awe at the mystery of our God. To feel the sun’s warmth and breathe in deep.

As we run,  spin plates, and cross things off our to-do lists today, may we remember to occasionally look up.

12177734_10207869085269283_1321324317_n(photo credit: Jessica Gantenbein)

May He surprise you with a moment of wonder today.

-Alyssa

 

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